


Joie de Vivre

by betterthanpulpfiction



Category: Hey Arnold!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, F/M, School Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 21:46:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9568115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betterthanpulpfiction/pseuds/betterthanpulpfiction
Summary: It's been ten years since the gang graduated high school, and their lives have diverged into completely separate paths. What kind of sparks will fly when they finally merge?





	

**Author's Note:**

> The consequences of boredom and a lack of imagination. Enjoy.
> 
> Everyone in this fic belongs to Craig Barlett.

  
“Man, can’t believe it’s been ten years.” Gerald stretched as he walked across the parking lot.  
  
“Yeah,” Arnold said in agreement, “Ten years too soon.”  
  
“You got that right, Arnold.” Gerald chuckled as they headed inside the building, both noting that little had changed since they graduated.  
  
They quickly signed themselves in and looked around. Some faces remained familiar while others were just faces in a crowd – it was clear that time had altered their perception.  
  
“So, when will Phoebe be here again?” Arnold asked, clearing his throat as he scanned the hallway.  
  
“Soon, I hope,” Gerald replied with a sigh, “It feels like she’s always cooped in the lab these days, you know?”  
  
“Well, I can’t imagine getting your PH. D to be an easy task.” The blonde said, taking in a few more familiar faces before Gerald started walking ahead of him.  
  
“Come on, we better get a seat.”  
  
*~*~*~  
  
The party raged on for hours with no end in sight. In fact, Arnold wouldn’t have been surprised if some of his former peers spent the night there before waking up with a massive hangover. He smiled at the thought and took a swig of his drink.  
  
“Come on, man. At least look around.” Gerald elbowed his friend, the effects have of alcohol fogging his judgement.  
  
“Cut it out,” Arnold pulled his elbow away with a smile.  
  
“It’s been three months. Three whole months!” Gerald exclaimed as he brought his face closer to Arnold’s. “There are other fish in the sea, you just gotta be open-minded.”  
  
Arnold sighed, resting his face against his hand. “I don’t know,” he looked at Gerald, “Everything’s my fault. If hadn’t been so dumb,” he trailed off, facepalming.  
  
“Okay. Okay. I guess I can see where you’re going with this,” Gerald lifted his hands defensively. If he were sober, he would’ve comforted his best friend without hesitation. However, since he was tipsy, his attention was focused on simply having a good time.  
  
“Eh,” Arnold stood up suddenly. “I’m gonna go hit the men’s room.”  
  
Arnold had been halfway down the hall when he saw her. In many ways, he could see the rugged and fierce spirit that empowered her, yet he also noticed the feminine elegance that she kept hidden all these years.  
  
They parted ways after high school. He studied International Relations and Sociology while she pursued a literary career as a freelance writer. They kept in touch through social media, but as her fame grew, she became less responsive to his messages until they ceased all together.  
  
He blinked a couple of times before coming to his senses. She was talking to Phoebe, probably catching up after all these years.  
  
He wanted to approach her. It was the most natural response he could conceive in that very moment. It took a bit of strength to tame his anxiety, but when he did he was able to manage his emotions. Somewhat.  
  
“Helga?” Arnold’s voice cracked as he approached the two women, his sudden intrusion forcing him to shake his head. “I-I didn’t mean to intrude on your conversation or anything, it’s just,” He felt his cheeks growing warm, “it’s been years since we last saw each other.”  
  
Helga merely blinked in response. They both should’ve prepared for this fated meeting. This event had been in their calendar for weeks, but when they finally met they could hardly process their emotions.  
  
“Arnold,” she blinked, clearing her throat, “I mean, ‘sup Football Head?” she quipped casually, her adoration eradicated by her sudden shift in demeanor. “How’ve you been holding up?”  
  
“Um, I’ve been okay. Got a job working as adjunct professor at a nearby community college.” He paused for a moment, the momentary silence killing him. “How about you? I’ve seen your photos on Instagram. Uh, I’m glad you’re keeping busy.”  
  
“Yeah,” she began, “Traveling’s one of the many perks of being a freelancer – I don’t have any strings on me.”  
  
“Um,” Phoebe began, noticing the unspoken tension in the air,” I can leave you alone if you wish?”  
  
“No!” Helga suddenly exclaimed, “Um, I mean,” she hesitated before coming up with an excuse, “Come on Phoebes, let’s go get some drinks.”  
  
As she walked away, Phoebe looked at Arnold and shrugged before following Helga. “Coming!”  
  
*~*~*~  
  
“Wait? Helga G. Pataki is here?” Gerald inquired, dumbfounded by the possibility. “You’d think after the hell she went through she would want to stay as far away from this place as possible.”  
  
“Right?” Arnold said, his elbow pressed against the table with a drink in his hand. “That and the fact that she’s never been in one place for more than a month.”  
  
Gerald snorted. “But if there’s anyone that can get her running back here, it’s you, Arnold.”  
  
“I know,” Arnold began, taking a swig of his drink midsentence, “It’s still surreal. Honestly, ever since we lost contact I never thought I would see her again.”  
  
“Mhm,” Gerald nodded, fully aware that the pair were hardly separated for long, “Whatever you say, Arnold.”  
  
“I should probably talk to her. It’s the right thing to do after all these years.”  
  
Gerald shrugged. “Again, whatever works for you, man.”  
  
Arnold averted his gaze, staring longingly at the bar. “You know what? I’m gonna do it,” he announced, downing his drink before standing up and patting Gerald on the shoulder. “Wish me luck, man.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah,” Gerald chuckled, “Good luck.”  
  
The emotions in Arnold’s head were ensnared in a ceaseless struggle. He wanted to talk to Helga. Time was fleeting and he wanted to discover what she had been to all these years. What was inspiring her these days? What kind of strange and fanciful lands had she visited? Was she even still in the writing business? He needed to satiate the curiosity that was gnawing at his brain, even if it meant placing himself in an uncompromising situation.  
  
He took a seat in the stool next to Helga and Phoebe, clearing his throat before speaking up. “Hope you don’t mind if I join you ladies.”  
  
Helga blinked, a faint blush brushing her cheeks as she struggled to find the words to speak. “Uh,”  
  
“I don’t see why not.” Phoebe shrugged, the effects of alcohol seeping through her mind. “Besides, you two need to catch up.”  
  
Helga shot Phoebe a dirty glare, the former shrugging as she took a sip of her drink. “Like hell we do,” Helga mumbled as she looked back at her drink and then at Arnold. “I mean, if you want to, Football Head. I have nothing to hide.”  
  
Arnold grinned, taken aback by the archaic nickname. “It’s been years since someone called me that.”  
  
“That’s a shocker. Figured someone would’ve came up with another name for that melon of yours.”  
  
“It’s nice to see you haven’t changed.”  
  
“And how to do you know that?”  
  
“I just do?” Arnold said hesitantly, clearing his throat. “I-I mean, you did just call me ‘Football Head.’”  
  
“Yeah,” a soft voice peeped from behind Helga, “I’m just going to check up Gerald. Hopefully he’s not too intoxicated by now.”’  
  
Helga’s eyes grew wide. “Hey, you just can’t leave me here Ar-I mean, the Football Head.”  
  
Phoebe turned around as she continued to walk away, mouthing the words “sorry” before assimilating into the crowd.  
  
Helga rolled her eyes. “I couldn’t ask for a better sister.”  
  
Arnold snickered. “At least she’s a step up from Olga. At least by your standards.”  
  
“Ew.” Helga retorted flatly. “I came here to have a good time, Football Head.”  
  
“Right, right. Sorry about that.” Arnold said, recalling that her and Olga’s relationship had greatly improved since their youth. His eyes wandered down to the glass in her grasp. “Is that club soda?”  
  
“Nope. Seltzer.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
There was silence for a moment.  
  
“So you like seltzer?”  
  
“It’s better than booze.”  
  
“Right.”  
  
“What flavor is—“  
  
“Oh, come on, Arnold,” Helga interrupted, stern features fixated on the young man in front of her, “Cut the crap. We both know you’re not here to discuss my beverage preferences.”  
  
Arnold blinked. “Oh. Right,” a smile crept upon his features, “I’m just…so happy to see you.”  
  
Helga raised a brow, caught in genuine shock. “Seriously?”  
  
The smile pervaded on the young man’s features. “Why wouldn’t I?” He chuckled. “You’re still as beautiful as you were ten years ago.”  
  
A pinkish hue now tainted the young woman’s cheeks, averting her gaze before shooting Arnold an accusing glare, still visibly flustered. “What are trying, Football Head?”  
  
“Huh?” Okay. He should’ve saw that response coming, but to see it in flesh – it caught him off guard. “I’m not trying anything?”  
  
“Dear Lord,” Helga scoffed, now staring at her empty glass. “You’re as dense as I remember.”  
  
Arnold frowned at the insult before his face returned to its original state of bewilderment. “I’m serious. What did I do wrong?”  
  
Helga sighed, feigning irritation for the sake of appearances. “Like you said, it’s been ten years since we last saw each other,” she paused, “ten years too long.”  
  
“And,” Arnold began, picking up on the direction Helga was steering the conversation, “Look. I know it’s been a while, but maybe we could get a fresh start?”  
  
The young woman sighed. “You said we’re an adjunct, right?”  
  
Arnold nodded. “Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?”  
  
“Look, Arnold. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” she averted her gaze, staring at the glass, “But,”  
  
“But what?”  
  
“For crying out loud,” Helga exploded, “can’t you take a hint?” She paused before inhaling deeply and composing herself. “Arnold, we haven’t seen each other in ten years. You’re a professor and I’m a traveling writer.” Her sapphire eyes met Arnold’s jade ones. “Our paths have diverged into two completely separate roads, and I don’t think they’ll diverge again anytime soon.”  
  
Arnold fell silent for a moment, looking down at his shoes and then at the glass in front of him. He struggled to speak for a moment, the bitter truth seeping into his heart. “I—I think I understand,”  
He exhaled. “I’m--I’m sorry.”  
  
“What are you apologizing for Football Head?” Helga smirked. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”  
  
“Ah,” Arnold rubbed the back of his head, “I should’ve known. I mean, I have no idea what you’ve been up to all these years.” He sighed. “I guess I’ll be leaving now,” he stood up and began to walk away, “Nice seeing you again, Helga.”  
  
He only took a few steps before she called out to him. “Hey, dweeb,” he turned around to see Helga grinning impishly at him, “just because we shouldn’t rush things into too soon doesn’t mean that we can’t see each other.”  
  
Arnold smiled, optimism kindling in his heart. “Great because, I-I don’t know if I can go another day without seeing you.”  
  
“You’re such a sap.”  
  
Arnold returned to his chair, his own features turning impish. “Come on, you love this dorky sap.”  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
Arnold leaned against Helga, cheeky grin plastered on his face. “Admit it, you missed me.”  
  
“I will if you stop grinning at me like that.”  
  
“Fine,” Arnold moved away, his chin now resting on his hand as it rested on the bar – grin dissipating into a smirk. “How about now?”  
  
Helga faintly smiled at the man. “Fine. I missed…this school.”  
  
“Oh come on, we both know that’s a lie.”  
  
“And how do you know?”  
  
“Criminy, Arnold. You’re hopeless.”


End file.
